Captured Heart
by aggy's girl
Summary: Isabelle is Lamorak's sister. When he died she took his place as a Knight. Now when she is in trouble how do two knight handle this and how does she handle the capture of one of her closest friends? Permanent HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Captured Hearts**

**Author:** saxongirl.

** Summary:** Rewrite of one of my first stories. Born female. Masqueraded as a boy. Isabelle took the place of her deceased brother Safir, in order to protect her village from destruction. Along the way she meets friends, enemies and will even find love among the knights. Summary isn't that good, but having a rough time thinking of one.

** Rating and Warnings:** M-R for light violence, adult situations, along with some slight torture and rape, and later chapters.

** Pairing:** Lancelot/OC/Tristan.

** Genre: **Action/Adventure/Romance.

** Disclaimer:** I don't own anything that is related to King Arthur and its respective owners. I only own character's that are not recognised from the movie eg. Isabelle/Safir and others. This story has a very rough and quick starting.

** Feedback: **Greatly welcomed.

- - -

**Chapter 1**

The morning fog had turned the air cool and even as the soldiers moved, through the few lines of sleeping children and teenagers, they shivered. Using their feet, they kicked the children and teenagers awake, who all groaned and grumbled as they began to stir and wake up. Most of the soldiers were already packing up their own things, leaving the Sarmatian boys to pack their own before the soldiers up and left half of them behind. A young eight year old boy with long, wavy dark hair was still half asleep as he began to roll up his bedroll, only he stumbled and fell head first into another older boy, who picked the younger one up by the front of his tunic, a scowl on his face. Another boy, who was adorned with two blue tribal tattoos on both his cheeks, dropped his things and placed a hand on the teenagers shoulder. 

"Leave him alone, Alymere. He didn't mean it," the boy remarked. The older boy, Alymere turned his head towards his kinsman and sneered as he dropped the smaller boy.

"He ain't even going to last a month." The boy with the tattoos watched as the older boy walked off. Turning to the younger one, he held a hand out to him. Taking the other, the boy smiled up at the teenager, who returned it reluctantly.

"Thank you. Tristan," he said, pushing his hair from his eyes. Tristan looked down at the eight year old. How he had found out his name, he didn't know, because the tribes stayed in their groups and kept at a distance from their rival clansmen. Another boy approached, his curly hair bouncing with step he took. Lancelot. The only boy to come from the Alontae tribe.

"I'm Lancelot. Alymere is one of the Udae." The eight year old looked up at the two older boys and watched them closely.

"I'm Safir, from the Careotae." The tribes were vast in number, but they held few remaining pure blooded Sarmatians, whose lines hadn't been tainted by foreign blood. Lancelot nodded as Tristan walked off, not saying a word to the pair.

"You can ride with me Safir, I noticed you haven't a horse and the journey is long." Even as Safir and Lancelot made there way towards the older boys mount, Safir could feel Tristan's eyes on him.

- - -

The journey as Lancelot had said was long and tiring. Each day they had travelled until the sun had fallen beneath the horizon, then had risen everyday with the sun and travelled again. Britain upon their arrival had welcomed them with nothing but rain and snow and fog. Hadrian's Wall had greeted the group of twenty-six odd Sarmatian boys had found the sight of the large stone structure a grim, cruel fate they had to stay in, until they were sent to their posts throughout Britain. 

As they entered the fort, Lancelot sighed from where he sat behind Safir on his horse. "So this is life for the next fifteen years."

"My father called this place is known as Hell to Roman soldiers," Safir said, turning his head to look at his friend.

A large, heavily armoured Roman man walked towards the group as some dismounted, while others tried to keep straight faces at seeing the man had no eyebrows, they looked as if they had been burned off. "Alright, whelps! I'm your commanding officer, until you are given your post, that is."

Lancelot and Safir stood beside Tristan, who silently watched the Roman commander walk down the line, his eyes never revealing what he thought of the Roman. The commander stopped when he reached Safir who stood, back straight and eyes staring straight ahead, never swaying from the wall that seemed so intriguing.  
"Your name boy!" the commander ordered, causing the eight year old to look at him. Safir didn't even bother to answer him, only just stared at him to watch as he looked down at him. "Your. Name."

"Safir."

The Roman commander smirked at the boy, only nodding his head as he passed by Lancelot. Safir's shoulders dropped at realising, he was the only one, who the Roman didn't seem to agree with.  
"Alright you lot! For the first few months of ye service, you'll be staying in the barracks. Many of you will be reposted to other Forts, later on. Now, follow the guards to your new rooms."

The Sarmatian boys did as ordered, leaving their horses in the care of the stable hands. Safir followed Lancelot down the hallways, making sure to keep within his sight.

"Two to a room, until you become knights you will live here in the barracks, now move it!" the soldier ordered. Lancelot and Safir found the first room that was empty and threw their things onto one of the cots on each corner of the room. The curly-haired boy had only just shut the door, when it burst open and two boys fell in. Both Sarmatians standing near their beds looked at each other then to the two who had fallen through the door.

"I'm Gawain," the blonde, rough looking one said, as he kept his companion in a headlock. The other boy struggled to get free and Lancelot laughed. "Oh! And, this little guy is Galahad. Who are you?"

"Lancelot. That is Safir."

The one named Galahad elbowed his companion in the stomach and watched him lean against the wall for support. The nine year old smirked and approached Safir, and wrapped an arm around the eight year olds' shoulders. "You and I are the lucky ones. We are the youngest, which means we get picked on more," he told Safir sarcastically, who laughed, only to receive funny looks from the other three.

"You laugh like a girl," Lancelot stated. Safir turned back and tried to look busy. Gawain grabbed Galahad and started leading him out of the room. Lance glanced over his shoulder at the eight year old sharing a room with him and felt compelled to ask a question. "Who are you really?" Safir froze. "I know you can't be male, for you laugh like a girl and you are too pretty as well." Safir turned and sat down on the cot, not wanting to meet Lancelot's gaze. The older Sarmatian knelt down and placed his hands on Safir's knees. "You are a girl, aren't you?" Safir quickly shook his head in reply, still not looking at him. "I won't tell, only if you give me your real name."

Safir glanced up as Lancelot straightened back up. Lancelot shrugged and turned to leave. "Wait! Do you promise not to tell anyone?" Lance nodded. "I'm Isabelle."

"Well, Isabelle, I'm Lancelot and I knew you were a girl the minute we met," he answered, chuckling at the Sarmatian girls gaping expression. "You are much too sweet and pretty for a boy, Isabelle." He ruffled her hair and she batted his hands away, laughing. He left the room and the young girl, sighed heavily before sitting on the bed. One day in her new life and someone already knew she was a girl. Isabelle heard the call that it was time for dinner and she quickly raced out of the room, not wanting to get into trouble for being late.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer; **Feelings!

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 2; Lancelot!**

Isabella sighed, seven years into her service and she was stitching the others up.

'Thanks Isa.' Galahad smiled before pulling his tunic back on , before running out.

'Yeah, sure' she whispered softly.

Standing she walked outside only to run headfirst into Lancelot.

'Sorry Lance, I'll watch where I'm going' she apologised, moving to leave except he stopped her.

'What's wrong Isa?' he asked.

'Nothing Lance, just please let me go'. He released her immediately and she ran off.

Lance sighed, she was like Tristan only worse, she kept things hidden from the others and no matter how hard he tried she would always find an excuse to leave before she had too answer.

'Lancelot, get Isabella, we have a mission.' He nodded at Arthur before running after his friend.

By the time the group reached the stables Lancelot and Isabella were already saddling Skysong and Windwhistler.

'So where are we going?' Isabella questioned.

In truth she wasn't feeling that well, but when you are hurt by a Roman commander that can't be good.

'You alright?' Dagonet asked and she nodded.

Tristan easily caught the teenager when she suddenly collapsed.

'Isabella!.' The ten Knights surrounded her.

Tristan lifted her up and swiftly carried her to the infirmary.

He watched as a healer ran up to him as he entered the room.

'She fainted. I don't know how' he stated at the questioned gaze the healer held.

'Put her on the bed, wait outside.'

'I have to leave on a mission. Make sure Vanora knows where she is.'

He left at the healer's nod and walked back to the stables briskly trying to forget about him touching her.

'_I can't like her. She is a Knight like me. But an attractive one at that_.'

He hit himself mentally and swung up onto his horses back.

'Is she alright?' Lance questioned.

'I don't know Leah was with her when I left' he answered under his breath. He knew Lancelot liked her but he wouldn't push her, Lance had been Isabella's first friend, most probably because of his cheekiness and her wits, which made them close over the last seven years.

'Let's go.'

* * *

Isabella slowly opened her eyes and sat up. She realised she was in the infirmary and sighed.

'Isabella, you're awake' the healer beamed, walking over.

'What happened to me? Where are the others? Where is Tristan?' she asked but stopped at realising her own words.

'Oh, so you like him as well.'

'I don't, Leah!.'

'Well he definitely likes you. Judging by the look on his face when he brought you in here.'

'Well… um… uh… I do kinda like him, but he wouldn't like me. I'm a girl who dresses like a man, he will never like me.'

She stood and went to leave but Leah's words stopped her 'You're with child, Isabella.'

'What?.'

'You're pregnant. Isa, who is the Father?.'

'Commander Marcus. Don't tell the others.'

'How long has he been doing this?.'

'Since I turned ten and three summers' she replied.

'When the Knights get back, you tell the others or I will.'

'I will tell, promise.'

* * *

Tristan sat away from Lancelot and the others.

Isabella had given him a book when she was little and he still carried it with him.

Opening it he found a rose and grinned. She'd been in his room again.

'What ya got there?' Bors questioned seeing the book.

'It's from Isabella. When we were little. She's been in my room again.'

He showed them the rose and the group laughed at the thought of the dark Scout been given a rose, all except that is Lancelot who looked down.

He knew Tristan and Isabella would end up together. One, because he was a womaniser, and Two, because he and Isabella were friends and probably would be nothing more.

He felt Tristan watching him and looked up.

'She is young Lance, you deserve her more than I do' he murmured sitting beside the curly haired Knight.

'No I don't I'm a womaniser and could never be anything more than a friend. I probably wouldn't even have the guts to talk to her after sleeping with her and I don't want to hurt her. You deserve her more, Tristan.'

The curly haired Knight stood and walked out of the clearing.

He was heading towards the river when someone grabbed him from behind and hit him across the back of the head with the hilt of a sword.

* * *

Pkease review and tell me what you think!

Every 2 reviews i will update! Eagerly looking forward to hearing what you think!

Saoxnlover!


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to all those who reviewed the first two chapters. Here is the third, I'm rewriting the first two, because they don't make much sense. So please leave a review and let me know what you think.**

**- - - **

**Chapter 3**

Lancelot groaned as he opened his eyes. The place was dark and cold. Wait. Cold? Looking down, Lancelot found his shirt missing. Moving to stand, he found that he couldn't as his hands were chained to the wall behind his head. Turning to turn his head to the right, only pain exploded from his right shoulder. The door opened suddenly, allowing in a great burst of light, blinding the young knight who turned away from the light. His ears distinguished the sound of a female voice among the clutter of armour. Looking up as the door was once again shut and torch around the dungeon were lit. He had guessed it was a dungeon, but now he wasn't so as a woman stepped into view.

"I trust my guards weren't _too_ rough on you," she said, bending down in front of him. It was how she emphasized the _too _that made him scowl in return.

"Oh, they were probably just being the faithful little dogs that they are," he remarked. The guard that stood at the woman's back moved forward and without warning, kicked Lancelot in the side with his foot, making the knight groan and hunch up in reaction.

"Very funny, Lancelot. Now, your commander Arthur is said to hold you in favour of all the other knights. Why?" The question she asked was simple enough, but he looked down, refusing to meet her gaze or answer her question. "If you don't answer me," she started, her hand moving to run down his taunt, hard chest. "Then I'll have my guards torture you, until you do talk."

Lancelot met her gaze defiantly. "You'll torture me anyway. Arthur is my friend and that is all."

She smiled smugly before standing to her full height. "I know they will try and rescue you. But, which one will be foolish enough to fall for my trap?" Turning, she walked towards the door. "I hope it is the knight that I wish to see."

Lancelot looked at the guard, who as he drew a dagger chuckled. "What are you chuckling at, tubby?" He had lost his temper at the woman's threats towards his brother-in-arms. And Isabelle.

The guard growled and punched him across the door. "Brunor, my pet. Take it slow, so he feels every minute of it." With that said, the woman left, leaving the guard, Brunor to deal with Lancelot.

- - -

Isabelle lay in bed. A hand resting against her stomach as she tried to sleep. But, her dreams were uneasy, making her twist and turn in the bed. A knock sounded on her door, just as she sat up, sweat covering her like a second skin. "Lancelot!"

"Isabelle? It's Vanora. A message was sent from another fort, it is from Arthur," the coppered haired woman called through the door. Pushing the tangled covers off her, she climbed from the bed and pulled on her boots.

Only Vanora, Tristan and Lancelot knew of her true identity and all three had vowed not to give away her secret until she was ready to speak up about it. Walking over to the door, she opened it and noticed that no one else was in view, good news for her, but she needed to keep her true self out of view of anyone who might give her secret up. Pulling Vanora into the room, she shut the door and literally snatched the scroll from her friend's hands. Unrolling it, she noticed immediately that the message wasn't from Arthur at all. She was a master at copying people's handwriting and had learned how to do Arthur's in order to prank the other knights, with Lancelot's help.

"Vanora. This isn't from Arthur, someone wants me to go to the fort," she stated. The old woman grabbed her friend's arm when she moved to grab her armour.

"Sweetie. If it is a trap, isn't it better to leave well enough alone and stay here, until the others return?"

Isabelle looked at her copper-haired friend and sighed, saying softly, "Whoever sent it said Lancelot was in trouble. I can't stay here, not knowing whether or not it is true." Vanora released her friend and allowed the teenager to grab her things and begin to dress. "Vanora could you please, help me with this?" She was referring to her chest bindings; they needed to be tightened a little, only to hide the swell of her breasts beneath her shirt. Taking pity on the girl, Vanora walked over and began to help Isabelle dress.

- - -

Even as she rode through the gates, Isabelle felt not only her heart tighten at the thought of losing her best friend, but silent tears fall down her cheeks at the thought of him dying before their service was over was unbearable, he always talked of how he had wanted to go back to Sarmatia and settle down like his father before him had down.

"Hold on Lancelot," she whispered to herself, silently praying that she made it in time to help him.

- - -

Arthur and his knights entered the fort that they had come to after following the tracks, that whatever had taken Lancelot had made.

Even in the dark hours of the night, a guard readily allowed them passage into the fort as a woman approached them, a welcoming smile on her lips.

"Welcome, Arthur Castus. What brings you to the fort, at so late of an hour?" Arthur dismounted as did his knights, who wearily looked around the heavily guarded courtyard as Arthur and the Roman woman spoke. "You are more than welcome to stay the night, rooms will be readied immediately and you and your knights can rest. I am sorry, but we have not seen any sign of your companion." Tristan looked at the Roman woman, his higher senses and judgement proved to the knight that the Roman woman was lying. He caught up to Tristan, who quickly muttered his words to his commander, who nodded in reply, agreeing with his scout.

- - -

Isabelle tethered her horse to a tree, out of sight of the fort and slowly moved through the shadows, the way Tristan had taught her. The guards on the fort battlements looked around, oblivious to the young knight below them. She came to a window and heard the sound of a man grunting in pain. She could hear the sound of another man's breathing and slowly drew her dagger. Slipping it into the crack between the two shutters, she unlocked the latch and heard everything in the room go quiet. She quickly ducked beneath the windowsill, when the shutters swung open and the Roman guard appeared. Shutting her eyes, she began counting to ten, silently begging that the man would leave the shutters open. Opening one eye, she looked up in time to see him disappear back into the room. Gripping the windowsill with both hands after she had sheathed her dagger, Isabelle forced all her strength into her next move and counted to three.

"One. Two. Three." On three, she swung into the room, her legs straightened out, only to crunched upon impact with strong hard, and large. Collapsing on the ground, she sat up and looked at the now unconscious guard and suddenly a very familiar voice.

"Isabelle?" Quickly crawling on all fours over to Lancelot, she wrapped her arms around his naked torso and hugged him tightly. He breathed in sharply in return and Isabelle released her grip on him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to get you. I guess choosing this room to break into, was just luck I guess," she replied, grabbing the keys from the guards belt, she quickly unchained the injured knight and pulled him to his feet. Bracing himself against the door, he watching in amazement as Isabelle next chained the guard up with one of the shackles lying about the room.

"How exactly are we getting out of here?" Lancelot coughed.

Isabelle and fixed her dagger back into its sheath as she looked at him. "Arthur and the others are here. We can find him and hopefully get out of this place, before something else happens." Using her shoulders to help keep the knight on two legs, she opened the door and thanked whatever Gods were listening that there were no guards in the hallway. They had made it around three corners and down another two more halls, when Isabelle and Lancelot both noticed there was not a single guard within sight.

Someone laid a hand on Isabelle's shoulder and she stiffened tightly in reply.

"Isabelle, what are you doing here?" Tristan questioned. Lancelot looked at his brother-in-arm wearily and gave him a tired smile.

"Helping Lancelot. Where is Arthur and Dagonet, he needs to be treated?" she retorted. The scout gracefully moved to stand beside Lancelot and helped placed on of the injured knights arms around his shoulders.

"Down the hall and on the first right," he said. Isabelle nodded and the pair began to head in that direction. Tristan looked at Isabelle from the corner of his eye. She was whispering to Lancelot, telling him everything would be alright. He wanted her to do that to him. When they reached Arthur's rooms, Isabelle banged harshly on the door. The door opened a few seconds later and the two knights helped their friend into the room. Arthur stared at Tristan, then door to where _Safir _was easing a pillow behind Lancelot's head.

"_Safir_?" he asked.

"I'll explain later, Arthur," Isabelle retorted quickly, using her boyish accent as she did. The commander nodded and watched as Tristan walked over to him.

"He needs Dagonet. It would look less suspicious if you were to go and get him," the scout remarked. Arthur once again nodded and left the room. Tristan picked up a blanket lying on the floor and covered Lancelot with it. He pulled Isabelle away from the bed and noticed she kept looking back at Lancelot. "Isabelle. There is nothing more that you can do, come with me."

"No. I'm staying here," she replied in a hard tone, daring him to try and argue with her. He merely sunk into a chair and watched as she walked back over to Lancelot. It was going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, here is the fourth chapter, up and ready. To explain how I've changed it a little, here are some things - Isabelle is only known by Vanora, Tristan, Lancelot and Marcus Vorenus. The others know her as _Safir_. She is still pregnant. Lancelot has been taken by a Roman woman. Her name is now Isabelle instead of Isabella. Please review and let me know what you think.  
**

**- - -**

**Here is a RP Site, created by me for people who want a chance to play a character they have always dreamed of. I do not own anything that is related to the games/movies that have contributed to help me build this site. The link is; **

**- - - **

**Chapter 4**

Lancelot stared up at Isabelle, not believing that she had come all this way - just to help him. "Isabelle." Luckily, Arthur had not yet returned with Dagonet, so it was safe to say her real name, otherwise she would not have even answered him. Tristan may have looked like he wasn't paying any attention, but he was.

"What is it?" she replied, kneeling down beside the bed. Even though it took nearly all his strength, Lancelot eased himself up onto his elbows.

"I… I… Thank you," he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. "I think you'd look pretty with your long hair." He moved his hand to finger a strand of her lose, wavy, short brown hair. Isabelle went red in the cheeks at how he was treating her. Her feelings for him went beyond friendship, just as her feelings went for Tristan, but she would never be able to tell him - one, because of his ways with women and two, they would eventually be caught and she would be exposed - maybe after their service they could when in Sarmatia, if they survived.

Her exposure would probably mean her banishment. She took hold of his hand and slowly pulled it away from her hair.

"You know that there can never be anything between us Lance. We would get caught," she whispered. Tristan was stabbing the seat of his chair with one of his daggers, trying to block out their words. Isabelle stood up and walked over to stand beside Tristan just as the door opened. Arthur entered, followed closely by Dagonet. He looked at _Safir_, who merely nodded in greeting before gesturing towards the bed, where Lancelot was laying down once again.

"How will we get him out of here?"

Isabelle spoke - in her boyish accent, of course - "If you and Dagonet can get him out the window, I'm sure that I can get him to the forest and to the wall in two days, while you act normal around the Roman woman and leave at first light."

Arthur smiled at his youngest knight and ruffled the _boy's _hair, earning a growl from the young knight. "I think that's the safest idea and it might actually work." Dagonet nodded from where he tended to Lancelot, while Tristan merely stood and walked out.

- - -

Isabelle nodded at Dagonet and Arthur as she helped Lancelot support himself onto her shoulders. "See you soon, my friends." Arthur and the healer knight watched as the fifteen year-old kept to the early morning shadows, hiding from the sentries on the fort walls.

"Isabelle, have I ever told you that you are the most beautiful Sarmatian woman I've ever seen?"

"Lancelot, you're hurt," she replied, smiling when she found her horse still waiting for her, patiently tethered to the tree. Helping Lancelot up into the saddle, she climbed up behind him and leaned the tired knight back against her body as she urged her mount forward. "Come on girl. Let's get as far as we can away from this place."

- - -

Tristan raised his bow and aimed cleanly for the target on the other side of the archery range. Something moved behind him and he spun, coming face to face with the Roman woman. She smiled, hoping that he would lower the bow. Tristan's arm never once faltered as he stood before the woman.

"You're a barbarian, like all your kind. I know how to tame you, though. Give you what you want more than anything in the world," she said, pushing the bow down as she began to circle the knight. Tristan watched her. She knew of nothing that he wanted, so how could she give it to him.

"You don't know what I want."

"_Safir_. I know the young knight is a girl. I visited the wall once, to see my brother. I must say, she could've fooled me, until I saw her smile. With her short hair and bound chest, she can fool your friends. You know of her secret as does the younger knight. What would you be willing to do, in order to protect her?"

Tristan looked at the ground. For once the past seven years, he had not once shown any emotion around people. At the mention of Isabelle's exposure though, he felt his passive expression falter. He then felt the eyes of a few men on them. "I'd kill you; whore, if you did not have your guards bows trained on me."

Her eyes widened in surprise. The knight was better than she had first guessed. "Well, you and I need to come to some sort of agreement, then. Say, you for her? A strong man in my bed is what I need."

Tristan looked at where her hand lay on his chest. "Lady, you are a witch and four years my senior. This will be our agreement; you never speak a word of her true identity, and I'll let you live."

His words were low and harsh and he meant every one of them. She pulled away, nodding slightly. "Good. But, don't worry knight. I'll have my way soon enough." Turning, she stalked off, her back straight and her body rigid as she made her way back inside.

- - -

Night came sooner than expected for Isabelle, who rejoiced at finding a cave - hidden behind a waterfall - for their resting place. Dismounting, when they entered the cave, she remembered to check Lancelot for fever the way Dagonet had taught her to. He mumbled something incoherent as she began pulling him off the horse. Creating a small camp and lighting a fire, so she could see, Isabelle shifted Lancelot onto her bedroll and covered him with another blanket. Putting the back of her hand to his forehead, she withdrew quickly at feeling his skin was cold, very cold. Dagonet had once told her, that in order to heat another person's body was skin to skin contact. Looking over at Lancelot, she found him laying there, shivering. Making a choice, she moved over to Lancelot and put her hand to his cheek, making him stir.

"Isa…"

"Sh. It's alright. I'm here. Lance, I need to undress you. You're freezing, I have to keep you warm," she explained as she moved and began to unlace his boots. Looking down at herself, she knew that undressing meant showing Lancelot the scars and bruises from Vorenus's torture. But this put Lancelot's health in even more trouble if she didn't.

_He would do the same for you, if it was your life in trouble _her mind shot back. Sighing back the tears, she slowly began to unlace the ties of her armour and pull it off. Lancelot moved slightly and Isabelle froze. He still had his pants on but she was still afraid of being naked around men, especially Lancelot, who had known so many women. Continuing to undress, Isabelle climbed into the bedroll and eased Lancelot out of his pants. Many times when they were younger, she had seen him naked, when they had gone swimming and she had to stay on the bank, using the excuse that she couldn't swim to keep the others from pulling her in. This was different though. She was a fifteen year old girl who was lying naked with her closest and dearest friend. Taking one of his hands in her smaller ones, she pressed a kiss to his palm and laid it over her waist. Her hands moved to his chest and she shut her eyes, moving closer to him as she did. His body was cold, but strong and his breathing sounded normal. Resting her head beneath his chin, she slowly ran her hand up and down his chest, trying to heat his body back up, but also swallowing at feeling the muscles beneath her fingertips. A memory came to her mid and she shuddered at the thought as she shut her eyes, giving them some rest.

_Arthur had asked someone to check in the stables one day for Lancelot's necklace, he'd dropped it somewhere. Being the youngest of the group and Lancelot's closest friend next to Arthur had chosen to help look. The stables had been deserted when she had entered, so she didn't receive any strange looks or questions as to what she (he, Safir) was doing. She had found the necklace in Morrigan's stall. _

_Lancelot usually helped her tend to her mare, Morrigan, which was probably why it was there. _

"_Ah! Little knight." She had turned sharply, and gasped in fright. Marcus Vorenus was leaning against the stall door. "Come here."_

_Isabelle knew that Vorenus had guessed she was a girl on her first day here, so there was no point trying to trick him. Carefully and timidly, she had stepped closer to him, knowing the penalty for disobeying a Roman officer. In that one step, that one moment when she was within his reach, he had grabbed the eleven year old and forcefully shoved her into the tack room. Her smaller body had been pinned to the wall by the Roman's hands. She had fought for merely a second or two as he pulled their clothing undone. Pain had made the eleven cry out. He had covered her mouth in order to silence her screams, but no one would have even heard her, for she was inside the tack room, the door was shut, the Roman held her prisoner and there was no one else in the stables. When the Roman had finished his business with her, he had dropped her to the ground. _

"_Tell anyone…"_

"_I won't, I promise," she struggled quickly. He merely smirked, fixing his clothing up as she did, her cheeks stained with tears._

"_I'll come to you. Try and do anything funny and you'll pay," he threatened. Even as she watched him leave, a feeling of despair, weakness, self-pity and fear had washed over her. When she had been able to walk again and the last of her tears were wiped away, she had gone to Lancelot's rooms. No one had been in there, so she had placed it on his desk and had left. _

Isabelle jolted awake. She felt tears threatening to fall, and try as she may to hold them back, they slid down her cheeks. Forgetting that she was laying half across a naked Lancelot, she buried her head into his chest. Arms slid around her and she pulled her head away before looking up into Lancelot's now open eyes.

"Isabelle." She felt her eyes start to roll back and felt Lancelot's arms tighten around her when she fainted. He hadn't realised their current condition, until Isabelle had fainted. "Why do you keep fainting?" He would question her on it when she woke up. Feeling better than what he had been, he grabbed his pants and pulled them on, before moving Isabelle into a better position. Looking at her, he felt himself tempted to remove the blanket, but his conscience got the better of him. His gaze moved to her face and he sighed heavily before kissing her on the forehead. Pulling away, he sat beside the fire. She had said Vorenus's name when she had been asleep. But why?


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, here is chapter five, up and ready. To explain how I've changed it a few little things around - Isabelle is only known by Vanora, Tristan, Lancelot and Marcus Vorenus. The others know her as _Safir_. She is still pregnant. Lancelot has been taken by a Roman woman. Her name is now Isabelle instead of Isabella.  
**

**- - -**

**Here is a RP Site, created by me for people who want a chance to play a character they have always dreamed of. I do not own anything that is related to the games/movies that have contributed to help me build this site. The link is; w w w . k i n g d o m s o f r u g e n . f u s i v e w e b . c o . u k (still in works.)**

**- - - **

**Chapter 5  
**

Lancelot decided to wash in the river and clean his wounds before Isabelle woke up. Stripping off his breeches, he slid into the cool water and shivered at first contact. Looking over his shoulder and through the waterfall, he found Isabelle still sleeping. What had made her say Vorenus's name in her sleep? What had made her pass out? Again. Shaking his head to clear all the roving thoughts, he breathed in and sunk completely into the water. When he came back up, he turned around and stopped at seeing Isabelle slipping into the water. He pushed his hair back and wiped the water off his face as he stood in middle of the water, where if rose to his waist, just. Isabelle had her breasts covered by her arms and Lancelot stared at her. Other than when she had been trying to rid him of fever earlier, Lancelot had never truly seen Isabelle without her knight guise on. And it scared him to notice just how pretty she really was, when he saw her as what she naturally looked like. Isabelle turned her back to him and slowly splashed water over her arms and body. She was sore. Her legs were sore, but she was used to the pain. For four years she had put up with the pain and it wasn't going to start worrying her now. Arms slipped around her waist and Lancelot rested his head on her hair. She sighed and relaxed against his strong frame. Lancelot knew that it was now or never to tell her, because of Tristan. He knew that the scout liked Isabelle and that Isabelle returned his affection, even if she didn't show it.

"I love you, Isabelle. Even if I could never have you, I would still love you. My little Sarmatian." She felt a tear slide down her cheek and sighed heavily.

"You know we can never show our affections for each other, Lancelot. I would be banished and you would probably end up in jail for a few days."

Lancelot made her face him and lifted a hand up to stroke her cheek. He held her tightly to him, her breasts strained against his broad chest, even though he realised she was an innocent and he a womaniser, who was using his strength to keep her in his grip and even if he felt her trembling, he wanted to just keep her in his grip.

"Would you lay with me, now? If this was the only chance to be… normal, would you be with me?"

"I… I can't. Lancelot my feelings for you go beyond friendship, but if Vorenus fo…" she trailed off as the words sunk in. Vorenus. He was the reason she didn't want to be with Lancelot in the lover type of way. She had the fear that if she did go that far with Lancelot it would hurt, like it always did when Vorenus came to her.

"What did he do?" Lancelot questioned, slipping arms back around her waist. She knew that the truth had to be told here, she couldn't lie her way out of it, not to Lancelot, not anymore.

"Ever since I was eleven, he has been coming to my rooms at night. The first day at the wall he had guessed I was a girl. He… I'm carrying his child. I fought him every time, I never wanted to do it, and I made sure…"

"Isabelle," he said her name in a hoarse whisper. He couldn't believe that their old commander had been the one person he had never suspected to hurt Isabelle in a way that made her afraid to share another's bed.

Isabelle pulled back and made her way over to where the blanket she had walked out in lay on the ground and quickly climbed from the water, wrapping the towel around her shivering body.

"I have to get dressed before the others come," she remarked. "… Could you help me with my bindings?" Lancelot nodded and without thinking, swam over to her and stood up out of the water. Isabelle froze at the sight of Lancelot's dripping wet, strong and naked body in front of her. He stepped closer to her as he covered himself from the waist down with a cloth. Isabelle's eyes followed a droplet of water that ran down the plain of his chest and down the muscles of his stomach, until it hit the folds of the cloth. Taking her hand in his, he guided her into the cave and made her sit on the furs. He grabbed the roll of bandage and sat down behind her. Letting the blanket slip off her upper half, Isabelle raised her arms up and began to wrap the bandages around her chest. He lowered his lips, not being able to stop himself this time and brushed them against the nape of her neck, making young knight shiver at the touch. Lancelot had finished wrapping the bindings around her chest, but his attention was on her neck and what he was doing to her. Isabelle murmured his name as he moved his lips up to her earlobe and bit down on it gently. Heat pooled in the pit of her stomach and it felt good. The others probably wouldn't leave for another day because of the woman and that gave them another day's rest in their hideaway and Isabelle a chance to show Lancelot her normal self. The heat spread throughout the rest of her body and Lancelot turned her to face him. He looked into her eyes for a second before leaning forward and kissing her. She sunk into the kiss and suddenly then felt her world tip when Lancelot laid her down onto the furs. Her heart pounded in her ears and it was then that she felt her fear come back from where Lancelot had pushed it to the very back of her mind. "Lance… No." It surprised her when he pulled back and smiled at her.

"I… I didn't mean for it to go that far. Um… You dress in here and I'll get dressed outside," he said, standing up and grabbing his breeches. Isabelle watched him walk out and suddenly felt very stupid about stopping Lancelot. But it hadn't worried him, he didn't force her to do anything and that's what suddenly changed her view on Lancelot in an entirely different manner.

- - -

Tristan groaned from where he lay on the grass. Normally, laying outside on the cool grass would help to clear his mind, but today nothing seemed to be working. Isabelle usually haunted his dreams, but now so did Lancelot. They were together and alone out in the middle of the forest, and Lancelot had the advantage of using his injuries in a tactile way. Isabelle didn't like to admit it whenever he asked when alone, that she was attracted to their curly-haired companion as more than a friend. Sitting up, he looked at the field he was in and his entire body stiffened at hearing someone approaching. Turning to look over his shoulder, the scout found it was the Roman woman, without her guards. She was the other reason he was here.

"Have you made your decision? I hope you have, otherwise this ride was pointless a waste of time," she said as she dismounted and approached the knight, who stood up. The knight pulled a dagger from his belt and grabbed the woman by the neck.

"I made my decision, whore, and it was final. Speak a word of _Safir's _true identity to anyone and I'll kill you. Understood?" The woman nodded, her eyes were wide as she realised this knight truly would kill her if he could. Tristan released her. She went to climb back into the saddle of her horse, only Tristan stepped forward and hit its rump, making it rear up and run off. "Your guards are not to attack my brethren, and now you cannot find your way back, for you are stuck here until I see fit to return." She scowled and watched as he found a place nearby and laid back down. His horse and hawk were close by, but judging from their master's attitude she wouldn't dare try to approached the creatures. She was stuck out in the wilderness with a Sarmatian knight.

- - -

Isabelle and Lancelot sat on opposite sides of the fire. She kept her gaze away from his naked torso and on what she was eating. Lancelot had somehow managed to catch a hare earlier on.

"Isabelle. Why did you come to the Wall?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence and causing her to sigh heavily. She set the rest of her food down, not feeling hungry anymore at the mention of home. Lancelot stood and moved to sit down beside her on the furs. "I know it had something to do with your brother."

"I took his place. The winter before they came to get him, he passed from a sickness. They never listened when my father said my brother had passed. They were going to kill everyone if they didn't get a boy. I dress up and gave myself a boys' name and haven't looked back since then," she explained. Isabelle couldn't hide her true feelings any longer and collapsed into his arms, crying. "I miss home."

Lancelot wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. "I know," he murmured into her hair as he rocked her gently. He looked down at the young woman in his arms and sighed softly. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and then slowly moved his lips down the bridge of her nose. Isabelle breathed in hoarsely and felt Lancelot's mouth ease over hers. He was surprised when she reached up to thread one of her small hands into his curls at the bottom of his neck. Their positions were awkward, choosing to move her down onto the furs; he did ever so gently, hoping that she did make him stop again. Isabelle stiffened slightly in his embrace, but as his lips moved against hers sensually he felt her relax and arch into him as one of his hands slipped down her side and rested on her hip, where he tapped his fingers. He only did it because he knew she was afraid of him doing this. At the moment, Isabelle didn't care all that much. Her main focus was his mouth on hers and what he was doing to her. His tongued slid over her top lip and she parted them. Vorenus always used force, never asking; only taking what he claimed was his. Lancelot however asked before he did anything to her, he was cautious, he knew that she wouldn't let him bed her.

"Isabelle." He drew back and looked down at her. Without thinking, she slid a hand over his shoulder, down the flat plain of his chest and over his toned stomach. He pulled back sharply. She smiled.

"You're ticklish," she said. Lancelot sighed and nodded.

"We… are… We should, uh, get some sleep. Before the others find us," he remarked, letting go of her. Isabelle watched him roll onto his side and grab the fur that lay behind him. Pulling it over them, he found Isabelle cuddling into his chest.

"Thanks Lance," she whispered. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her smaller frame.

**Doesn't give a lot away, but the plot has started to appear now. SG345**** Please review. Thanks.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey all. Here is Chapter 6 and it describes a lot more about what will happen in the next few chapters. Please leave a review and let me know what you all think. **

**- - - **

Chapter 6

The sun rose in the west and shone through the water - into the hidden cave - and covered the two young knights that still lay asleep under the furs of their bed. Lancelot groaned softly as he rolled onto his stomach and threw an arm across Isabelle's bare waist. At Lancelot's movement, Isabelle stirred. Looking up, she smiled at seeing her curly-haired companion resting.

_He needs it more than what I do_ she thought, reaching for her shirt and tunic. Pulling them on, she looked up at hearing horses outside and instinctively drew her sword. Before she had the chance to see who it was, a body had pinned hers to the ground.

"_Safir_?" It was Tristan. Arthur and the others stood behind him as Lancelot turned to look over his shoulder, sword in hand. Sighing at the sight of his commander and brother-in-arms, the knight stood and smiled at the group of men.

"Tristan. I can't breathe," Isabelle wheezed, hoping that she sounded enough like _Safir _to keep her identity hidden.

"Tristan let _him_ go," Arthur said as Lancelot walked over with only his breeches on. Tristan helped his female companion up and nodded at her then Lancelot. "_Safir _did a good job. You look better."

"I feel better," Lancelot murmured sheepishly to his best friend and commander. Without warning, the older man enveloped his second-in-command in a large hug. Isabelle smiled and walked over to the furs. She began rolling them up, only to find Tristan taking the things from her and began to pack it onto the horse. Kay picked his teenage friend up into a hug and chuckled as the knight struggled to get free.

"You came to rescue pretty boy. Well at least we now know who the princess of the group is." Isabelle glowered as Gawain ruffled her hair, but smiled at Lance who scowled and led Isabelle's horse outside. The fourteen other knights followed and looked around as the sun blinded them for a minute.

"Come on _Safir_," Lance said and swung up onto the back of his horse. Watching as Isabelle pulled her armour on before she climbed into the saddle, Lancelot turned to Tristan whose eyes were on him.

"What?"

"Nothing," the scout muttered in reply. Something was wrong, and Lancelot could tell that the problem was something to do with him - and Isabelle.

"Let's get back to the Wall," Arthur ordered. With his call, the group headed towards the wall.

- - -

The woman screamed in frustration and picked up a nearby vase. A hand caught her wrist, stopping her from throwing the vase at the guard near the door. "You're dismissed." The soldier quickly left at his master's command and shut the door behind him.

"You told me she would be among them," she said to the man standing beside her.

"Sister. I said, 'I thought she would be'. I never made a promise that she would be," he replied. Attia glared at her brother as she pulled away from him.

"Vorenus, do you not see that the scout loves her? What if the child is his?" she asked. Vorenus smirked as he sank into an ornately decorated chair and picked up the wine cup near him. His sister, Attia, had the tendency to mix problems into a perfectly set out plan. Probably because she loved chaos so much, which is why nothing ever seemed to go the way he wanted when she was involved.

"Look. The moment I get back, I'll announce the first part of my plan, and the first will simply fall out," he said before taking a sip of the wine. She raised one elegant eyebrow and tilted her head to the side, regarding her brother for a minute. He was strong, tall and the most devious person she could ever meet. That is why she loved him so much.

"Very well. But remember, the child is mine. I care not what you do with the girl; she will be of no use to us afterwards. So, I suggest getting rid of her," she stated, swaying over to him and placing herself in his lap. Vorenus nodded, his eyes showing that he was far away, deep in thought. "What is it love?"

"I won't kill her. She could be of use to me later in the future." Attia's eyes clouded over with hate and she scowled. He held the damned Sarmatian in higher regards than his own sister.

"Fine. But if she causes any trouble, you are to kill her. Understand?" she ordered, cupping his cheeks and making him look her in the eyes. He nodded and watched as she stood up and left the room. Vorenus eased himself from the chair and walked over to the window. As he studied the now rising sun, he wondered just how the knight, Lancelot, had managed to get away and how his companions never even knew about it.

- - -

Arthur looked at Lancelot, who smiled at him and nodded his head, silently telling his commander that he was alright. Isabelle rode at the very back of the group, keeping to herself. Tristan rode in front of her, seemingly to be "keeping" an eye on her as he had whispered earlier. She could handle herself in battle, he knew that, so why was he all of a sudden so protective of her?

Shaking her head, she looked at the fourteen knights that remained from the past seven years of fighting. There was Alymere who still held a grudge against _Safir_, Gawain and Galahad; who seemed almost like brothers, Gareth; Gawain's older brother, Tristan, Lancelot, Bors; a father like knight to her, Dagonet; the healer of the group, Arthur, Lionel and Kay; both from the Biessi tribe, Ector, Percival, and of course _Safir_. Each had their own way of fighting and always stuck up for each other, from the battle field to the tavern when some Romans tried to pick a fight with them. Sighing, Isabelle rode up alongside Tristan and briefly took his hand in her small one and squeezed on it. The scout returned it, and looked at her in questioning, not seeming to understand why she had done it, but welcomed it all the same. Dagonet saw the gesture and smiled as he turned back to listening to Bors. He would question _Safir_ on it later.

- - -

The Fort, or mostly those who knew the knights were there to greet them upon their return. Vanora pulled Isabelle into a tight hug before she even bothered to acknowledge her lover Bors. Her actions made the men laugh at the youngest knight and tease _him _about his way with women. Lancelot remained silent however as did Tristan. Both knights led their mounts into the stables and began to remove their saddles and bridals. Arthur entered a moment later, a troubled expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" Tristan inquired of his commander.

"Vorenus isn't here. They said he had left last night, but he never stated where," the man replied.

Lancelot shrugged as he spoke: "Who the hell cares? Not me for one."

"Lancelot, what's gotten into you?" Arthur demanded at his second-in-commands words. The knight shrugged once again and shook his head. Finishing his task, the curly-haired knight shoved past the others, who were all entering the stables. Isabelle turned to watch him head off to his rooms and looked around for Jols. Finding the squire, she handed him the reins and he nodded in answer to her silent question. She smiled and took off after Lancelot. Rounding the last corner that led to their sleeping quarters, Isabelle found an arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her into the shadows of a nook. On instinct, she struggled against the person's grip until very familiar lips crushed against hers which ceased her efforts to get away. Arms slid around her smaller frame as he pushed her up against the Wall and her arms wrapped about his broad shoulders. Lancelot pulled his head back and rested his forehead to hers, trying to control his breathing. Isabelle looked at him with wide eyes. He smiled and pressed his mouth softly to his. She giggled lightly when his beard tickled her under her nose and pulled back. Lancelot chuckled and set her down on the ground.

"What was wrong?"

"Nothing. I… it just had something to do with Vorenus is all," he replied. Isabelle's eyes shifted to the ground, only Lancelot made her look at him. "He's not here. You're safe tonight." He noticed her smile never reached her eyes and that she still seemed to be carrying all her problems locked up inside. "Come on. I just need to get change and we can go find something "productive" to do." His grin made her blush at realising what he meant and shook his head.

"I want to be in the tavern. That way no one suspects anything, and besides I may not be able to drink, but I can still beat Galahad at knife throwing," she remarked. Even though, he didn't really wish to, he knew she was right. Nodding, he pressed a kiss to her lips before walking towards his rooms and Isabelle headed to the tavern.

- - -

Galahad and Gawain were already in a knife throwing contest by the time Isabelle reached the tavern a few minutes later. Tristan watched them from a dark corner, but his gaze trained on her when he noticed her approaching him.

"Tristan," she said, sitting down in the chair next to him. He nodded and turned back to eating the green apple he was cutting into eighths. Shaking her at the scout, she grabbed one of his daggers that lay on the table and made to stand up, but he stopped her.

"What do you think you're doing with that?" he asked. She smiled sheepishly at him and motioned with her eyes to Galahad and Gawain who were arguing heatedly over who won the first round. He let her go with a slight smile pulling at his lips and watched as the young knight readied the dagger. Both of the arguing knights stood directly in her line of fire and she prayed that neither moved. Throwing the dagger, it flew between the two knights and end up landing dead centre. The two knights stopped arguing and looked at the target, then turned to look at Isabelle who grinned proudly at the pair.

"I guess that means I win?" she inquired, picking up the coins on the table and walking back over to Tristan after retrieving his dagger. She handed Tristan the dagger back and placed half of the coins on the table top in front of him. He looked at her with a questioning look. "Your dagger. It was your teaching skills, so you get half the money." He didn't say a thing as he looked towards the tavern entrance. Turning in her chair, Isabelle smiled at seeing Lancelot. He noticed her, but didn't like the look on Tristan's face and decided to sit elsewhere. Isabelle stood after telling Tristan she would be back in a minute and headed over to Lancelot. She was going to sort these two out, once and for all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Here's the newest chapter. Hope you enjoy this one. Adult situations occur during this chapter, which means if you aren't comfortable, don't read it. Anyway, please leave me a review and let me know what you think.  
**

**- - - **

**Chapter Seven**

She waved goodnight to the rest of the knights as she made her way out of the tavern. "Safir, wait!" Isabelle turned at hearing Dagonet and raised an eyebrow at him.

"What's wrong?" she asked. He took hold of her arm and pulled her towards the knights' quarters. Once in the hall and he made sure no one was watching, the healer knight turned sharply to face his young companion.

"Who are you?" he inquired.

"Safir. Who else?"

"No. Do you think I have not noticed the little things; your bound chest, which I found odd for a boy to do so, not wanting to be undressed around any of us, and you are the only person I know who can hold Tristan's hand like he is a lover. Who are you really Safir?" Isabelle's eyes widened with each of his accusations.

She looked at the ground, murmuring, "Isabelle. I've been hiding my identity from everyone, well… except for Vanora, Lancelot and Tristan. Please don't tell anyone, especially Arthur." Dagonet was quiet. What was he meant to say? Arthur was his friend and commander, but then again Sa… Isabelle was his friend and fellow Sarmatian.

Sighing, he looked at the small girl in front of him. "Alright. I won't tell anyone, but you have to tomorrow night during our meeting, or I will. Understand?"

She nodded, though her eyes were grim. Lancelot suddenly appeared and smiled at Dagonet. "See, you didn't have to ask me, Dag. I told you she would answer you." Isabelle punched Lancelot's arm, not wanting to believe that he had told Dagonet.

"You told him to ask me?!"

"No. He asked me if I noticed anything strange about you, and I just said that he should ask you," he replied. Isabelle looked at Dagonet, who nodded to confirm Lancelot's words. The healer looked between the two young knights and turned, leaving the pair to their sort - whatever they needed - out. Isabelle grumbled as Lancelot put a finger up to her lips, when Dagonet disappeared around the corner, he pushed her against the wall. She looked up at him and moaned softly when his mouth met hers in a gentle kiss. One of his hands managed to find the hem of her shirt and pull it up, cold fingers met warm skin and Isabelle groaned, withdrawing from his touch.

"Your hands are cold," she said when he pulled back. Grinning, Lancelot lifted her up into his arms and carried her four doors down the hallway to his rooms. Once inside he set Isabelle and turned to shut the door, locking it for extra measures. Hands slid around his stomach as Isabelle hugged him from behind. Her fingers slowly began to ease his tunic up. Lance groaned softly as her fingers trailed up his abdomen like feathers. Letting his eyes slip shut, he let her work at her own pace, not wanting to frighten her.

Pulling his tunic completely off, Isabelle pressed her lips to his shoulder and ran her hands up his chest. He turned and pulled her to him by the hips, crushing them together. Heat stirred in the bottom of her stomach and she leaned up to kiss him as one of his hands gripped the back of her neck. She stumbled backwards as made to undo her tunic. Laughing against his mouth, Isabelle suddenly felt powerful. Lancelot was under her control, and didn't she know it. Pulling away, she turned and began to unlace her tunic, it would've been a lot easier to just pull it over her head, but her shoulders ached from having to help Lancelot walk the other day, but this was a lot more fun. He stepped forward and pulled pressed his lips to her neck, smiling when he saw her trembling hands. He reached around and covered her hands with his, helping her to undo her tunic. Once completely unlaced, he slid it off her shoulders, letting his hands brushed against the lengths of her arms, feeling cool skin beneath his warm palms. "Beautiful," he murmured into her ear before turning her around to face him. His mouth met hers in a soft kiss, as he eased her backwards towards his bed, not wanting to waste anymore time with clothing. She climbed onto the bed and eased herself towards the pillows as he followed her, his mouth not once leaving hers. Reaching between them, he unlaced the strings of her breeches and slid them down her hips. Looking up at him, Isabelle felt herself begin to smile at him. Looping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down on top of her. "Do you like me Lance?"

He nodded. "You're beautiful." Lancelot kissed her tenderly and she moaned into the kiss, wishing he wouldn't stop. As he did kiss her, he somehow managed to strip off his own breeches, leaving them both as naked as the day they were born. Resting on his side, he stroked her cheek. There was one question he had to ask her before he went any further. "Would you have been able to wait until our service was over for this?" Isabelle blushed, remembering that she had gone back on her own words from the other night.

"No." Grinning, he rolled on top of her.

"Good," he said, leaning down to kiss her. Isabelle wrapped her legs around the backs of his, slowly running her feet up and down his calves, teasing him. He chuckled and leaned his forehead to hers before he moved into her. Isabelle bit back the sharp noise that nearly came from her mouth. Lancelot froze when he saw her face, knowing that she was in pain by how tense she was beneath him. He leaned down and kissed her gently. "Sorry."

She shook her head and shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable. "I'm alright."

"You're not?" he retorted, running his fingers up and down her side. "I can tell." Sighing, she let him caress her body and kiss her until she was more relaxed. Tightening her legs around him, she raised her hips, making him groan softly. Isabelle grinned and Lance dropped his head to her shoulder as he moved his hips in time with hers.

- - -

Isabelle lay atop Lancelot, her head resting against his chest as she kissed his palm. He smiled as she looked up at him and reached up to brush his damp curls out of his eyes. Stroking her cheek, he watched as she leaned into it and shut her eyes. He pulled the blankets tighter around them as the fire burning in the hearth wasn't enough to keep them warm. Isabelle was looking down at him, her hand held his away from her.

"What is it?" he asked.

She went red for a minute, but then looked at his palm and traced the lines on it, tickling him lightly. "How many women have you had before me?"

Lancelot swallowed thickly. If he told her the truth, she might hate him, but if he lied - she probably hate him even more. "Why?"

"I'm curious. I want to know whether you are talented because of all the women or… you just naturally are gifted with women."

Sighing, he sat up and looked at the fire for a minute. "You remember that tavern keeper, the one who gave it to Vanora?"

Isabelle nodded, of course she remembered Amarice, the woman had helped her when Vanora was unable to, of course Lancelot and the others never knew, because Isabelle didn't want them to know about her troubles with being female. "She taught me about women, when I was twelve."

"So… how many women have you had?" He looked at her and smiled at her impatience.

"Why are you so impatient?" he questioned.

"Because you won't answer me," she retorted, hitting him. Lancelot tried to get away from her, but ended but falling off the bed, pulling Isabelle with him. She squealed at the sudden tilt in her balance and tumbled down, right on top of Lancelot which knocked the air from the both knights. Isabelle jumped when someone started banging on the door, calling out to Lancelot and asking if he was alright. Easing her off him, he put a finger to his lips motioning for her to be quiet, then grabbed a sheet from the messy pile on the bed and wrapped it around his waist as he made his way to the door. Isabelle pulled the blankets around her and ducked out of view, thankfully the side they had fallen off was actually not the side closest to the door.

Lancelot opened the door, grinning sheepishly at Arthur. "Alright, what did you do this time?"

"Fell off the bed by accident." Arthur looked at him, clearly annoyed, and then a sly smirk came to his face.

"So you squeal like a girl?" Lancelot's eyes went wide and he rubbed the back of his neck, uneasy as his best friend folded his arms and leaned against the door frame.

"No! I… I have someone with me. Could you just forget it even happened?" Arthur sighed as he threw up his arms and reluctantly nodded. Isabelle sat up with the blanket covering her when Lancelot such the door. "Well that was fun!" He smiled as Isabelle began to giggle. The sound was so strange coming from her, but so cute at the same time. She sat on the edge of the bed and held her hands out to him when he turned back to her after he had fixed the fire. He pulled her to her feet and bowed his head to kiss her again, fuelling the fire that started in Isabelle's lower stomach again.


	8. Chapter 8

**This is a note going out on all of the stories so there if you receive a number of updates, this is the reason.**

**Okay all, well I am pretty much giving up on writing stories on this profile. **

**Aside from the fanfiction story: The Silver Lining all the others will eventually be deleted. And "Beyond the Grey Horizon" will be published under my new account once I have finished revamping the chapters I presently have written. The same might go for Battle of the Brave, Bound by Nature, All That I'm Living For, An Enemy's Daughter and A Lion's Heart; if I ever feel the motivation to rewrite them and rework them. Blind Faith has already been moved over.**

**With that said I am saving the downloadable versions of all the stories into a folder and to those who would like certain stories or the "wrestling folder" I can happily send you them. This is my rough plans, I still am undecided on the matter; I may end up writing to one or two of the wrestling fanfictions that I have up (Little Darlin' and such) but otherwise, I just cannot be bothered with struggling and sending myself nuts with trying to complete most of this fics. **

**Ladies, this does not mean that I have never appreciated your support and the itty bitty bit of success that I gained while writing a number of these fanfictions but I am moving forward to write actually novels with the hope of getting them published one day.**

**I love you all so much and as I said, if you would like certain copies of fiction or the fandom folders I will be saving them all to. Let me know asap!**


End file.
